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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23851357">Love is a Battlefield</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowObsessor01/pseuds/ShadowObsessor01'>ShadowObsessor01</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>LTIA: Original Story Concept [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship, Drabble, F/M, Rewriting because Reasons, This is the original</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:07:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,829</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23851357</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowObsessor01/pseuds/ShadowObsessor01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He honestly had no intention of falling back to sleep. Hell already waited for him at home, there was no use putting it off longer. When he went to get up, however, a wave of dizziness pulled him back down. While most of the drug had worn off, Billy didn't trust the noodles his legs currently were to hold him up long enough to walk all the way home. He told himself he'd rest for a few more minutes before trying to walk again; then next thing he knows, there's the mouthwatering aroma of cooking bacon and Pat Benatar crooning from a cassette player in the corner.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Billy Hargrove/Rebekah Shore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>LTIA: Original Story Concept [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738561</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Love is a Battlefield</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello my Lovelies!</p><p>This is an original (future) scene from my latest story Love You Through It All (Title Pending) and unfortunately because of the direction my story is going right now, some massive editing is required. Like, massive amounts. But I absolutely love this scene and its kind of what sparked this whole she-bang anyway so I am posting it for y'alls enjoyment.<br/>Literally, this was originally how I was going to start this story. Then a stampede happened in my head and yeah, now I have a new monster on my hands LOL.</p><p>As for LYTIA, THANK YOU SO MUCH! Four Kudos, One comment and almost 60 views? In a week? For a rough first draft to test the waters the response is delightful! (Or I'm just easy. Shrug.) Expect the official revised first chapter soon!</p><p>Ja'ne!</p><p>Stay safe, stay healthy, stay at home where you can. Write fanfiction when you get bored haha</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Love Is A Battlefield</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Had anyone told Billy Hargrove that within a few short months his life would be saved by a bible-thumpin' preacher girl from Nowhere, Indiana; he'd have introduced their face to his fist. Repeatedly. As it is, dear ole Dad decided that it was high time to move his loving family from civilization to the back wood boondocks of Hawkins, Indiana. Of course, <em>sweet little Max</em> had a fair hand in moving them away from the ocean and Billy's only sanctuary. Not that the brat ever apologized for running her mouth. No because that would mean Billy is justified in his anger and how dare Billy have <em>anything</em> that would get him away from Neil.</p><p>But hey, what did Billy know? He’s a stupid punk kid skating by on his good looks with no prospective future except as a hobo or pimp. Billy still has no idea how his dad managed to convince his step-mom to marry him. But, these acting skills had to come from somewhere, right? Couldn’t have people sniffing their noses where they don’t belong. Now if only Billy was still an only child than life would be <em>peachy-keen</em>; however, new Mom came with a new sibling. A red haired fire cracker of sass and mouth whom got off on pushing every single one of Billy’s nerves. Never mind the fact Billy is the only thing between her and her new Daddy’s fists. So what if he cussed her out after she deliberately disobeys? He hasn’t hit her. Grabbed her and shaken her, yeah. Broken her toys but not her <em>bones.</em> Ungrateful brat.</p><p>It’s also because of said brat that he’s waking up to a skull splitting headache, liquefied muscles, and cotton balls taking up residence in his mouth. Then again, waking up would imply opening one’s eyes. However, with the current lead weights attached to his eyelids Billy is going to have to settle for barely conscious. He’s no longer on the hardwood floor of the Byer homestead or the rotten black Hell Tunnel which is a plus, and the annoying sounds of Harrington and his duckling dweebs is blissfully absent as well. All pluses with a very major minus in the fact that he has no idea where he is or how he got there. Several long minutes were spent trying to convince his body to get up and get out.</p><p>The creak of a floorboard stilled Billy’s half-hearted wriggling on what he had determined to be a surprisingly comfortable sofa.</p><p>“I know you’re awake. It’s alright, I’m not going to hurt you.” A woman’s voice, most likely around his age, rang softly in the quiet of the room. Something within Billy eased at the sound, a deep seated fear he rarely acknowledged whispering that everything was fine, he could take a woman even in his current state, not a man too strong for him (not his father). “Are you allergic to any kind of medication? I ask cause you’ve got quite the lump under those curls so I can only imagine the headache you’re suffering.”</p><p>There was no point in not answering. None of his instincts were screaming danger and if she was talking of medication it meant that she brought something to relieve the pain which Billy was all for receiving.</p><p>“N-no.” Holy Hell, his throat ached. And the croak was frankly embarrassing especially since Billy took pride in his skills as a womanizer. Voice and eyes are always the key he’s discovered. An amazing bod doesn’t hurt either. His introspection was broken by the unmistakable feel of a straw on his lips.</p><p>“Drink a little water first then you can have the Aspirin and more water.” Her hand on the back of his neck was petite but warm and strong as she helped him lift his head enough to drink.</p><p>The first pull of water was difficult until the liquid ambrosia hit his tongue. Then Billy had a hard time stopping, the water doing its job in lifting the cotton feeling in his mouth and the fog from his head. He was not ashamed to admit to the whining groan that left him when she removed the straw, but it did give him incentive to try opening his eyes again. This time fortified by water, Billy managed to coax his eyes into opening and finally got a look at his rescuer.</p><p>She was familiar in a way he couldn’t quite pin yet and around his age as he had guessed. Russet hair formed a natural wave around her shoulders, half of it pinned back in a tail. Pale skin dotted by auburn freckles spoke of someone who didn’t go outside often enough to tan. Average height wearing a tan sweater and faded blue jeans. Her feet were bare though the toenails sported chipped pale blue polish. She watched him analyze her, a soft semi-indulgent smile pulling up her natural somewhat Cupid lips. A dimple teased his eyes before hiding away again. All in all, a wallflower who has potential to be beautiful but with no desire to take the time to doll herself up. Not a woman he would normally notice and pursue.</p><p>“I know you, don’t I?” That sounded so much better than his first attempt at speaking.</p><p>She laughed but there was nothing happy in the sound, being more akin to a hyena than anything anyone would want to hear on a daily basis. It took him a few moments to realize this was her way of mocking his question. Anger flooded him, a trigger reaction he suspected he’d never be able to fully lose.</p><p>“We only share History, Science, English, and Home Ec together. But really, what was I thinking expecting you to recognize me? I’m not exactly your flavor of choice, now am I.” Just as quickly as it came, the anger vanished under her self-deprecation. As it did he also remembered her.</p><p>“You’re that Bible Thumper at school: Rachel or Reese or something.”</p><p>“Rebekah and if by Bible Thumper you mean Born Again Christian, then yeah I am.” Billy was actually kind of impressed by her irritated glare. “Look, I get that I am out of your social circle so please, let’s not bring that up. You were passed out in a ditch about a mile from here. I saw you and decided to help. That’s it. Once you can see straight, you can borrow my landline to call a ride.” Rebekah took a deep breath and Billy watched her physically let go of her anger.</p><p>“I’m not going to preach at you or anything of that nature. I merely want to help. That being said, since this is my home, I kindly request you keep the foul language and derogatory names to a minimum.”</p><p>Billy regarded her. For all that he and others made fun of her mousy, church going ways in the school halls, Rebekah was nothing like he had imagined. There was steel in her spine and fire in her eyes. She wouldn’t go down easy and for that, he could admire her and heed her request. Hell, she had pain meds, he'd even brush the dust off his manners.</p><p>“Thank you for bringing me here. Couldn’t have been easy.”</p><p>“Not sure how you feel about comments regarding your weight but yeah, not easy.” Her eyes sparked mischief and her mouth promised sly sass. Billy laughed despite the pain.</p><p>“Muscle weight, Sweetheart. No fat on this bod.”</p><p>“Mhm, of course.” Her tone took the bite out of the words, all teasing laughter and ego nudging snark. “You think you can handle the rest of the water on your own?”</p><p>Billy felt a tick develop above his eye as a scowl settles darkly on his face. Sure, his muscles still felt like jello but he still had his pride dammit.</p><p>“Yes. I don’t need to be fu-freaking coddled!” His pride was stung yet a minuscule part of him felt bad for snapping at her after she had done nothing but help him which was about the only reason he managed to change the expletive to something more fitting her delicate constitution.</p><p>Rebekah’s lips thinned, her own irritation rising to simmer below her skin. She didn’t quite slam the glass down on the coffee table though it was a near thing.</p><p>“Fine. I’ve got a few errands to run. Get some more rest, let the aspirin have a chance to work. I’ll wake you when supper is ready.” She stood swiftly, the movements jerky with emotion. Rebekah was completely willing to be mad at the rudeness Billy Hargrove displayed, if in rising from her perch on the coffee table she hadn’t seen him flinch back with barely hidden fear. However, she did indeed catch his reaction and it brought to light the missing piece Rebekah needed to understand the Billy-Puzzle.</p><p>She sighed.</p><p>“Hargrove, I-” Rebekah started, stopped and realized nothing good would come of pointing out her realization. “I’ll be back soon. The TV remote is above your head on the side-table. My books are up for browsing as well. Bathroom is down the hall, second door on the left.”</p><p>Billy stared as she gave him a tentative smile, her previous anger gone. It seemed unnatural to him but he couldn’t deny the relief flooding through him at its absence.</p><p>“Uh....yeah.” He cleared his throat, nervous and unsure suddenly. “Thanks, I guess.”</p><p>Rebekah nodded and left. The front door closing minutes later and silence descended in the small house. Billy laid back on the couch wondering when his life had spiraled completely out of his control.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>-We are young</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Heartache to heartache we stand</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No promises, no demands</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Love is a battlefield</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He honestly had no intention of falling back to sleep. Hell already waited for him at home, there was no use putting it off longer. When he went to get up, however, a wave of dizziness pulled him back down. While most of the drug had worn off, Billy didn't trust the noodles his legs currently were to hold him up long enough to walk all the way home. He told himself he'd rest for a few more minutes before trying to walk again; then next thing he knows, there's the mouthwatering aroma of cooking bacon and Pat Benatar crooning from a cassette player in the corner.</p><p>It's better getting up this time around, no dizziness and his legs actually support his weight. Billy made his way to the bathroom because while his stomach is turning inside out from hunger, his bladder is screaming warnings. He's washing his hands and checking the damage to his face-a few scrapes and slight bruising, his bottom lip moderately swollen-when he finally registers the song. Billy has always been a fairly big believer on music speaking a lot about the listener. Back in Cali, his own music taste ran on a broader spectrum than the heavy metal he listened to exclusively here in Indiana. Pat had some good pieces in his opinion, not that he would tell anyone that fact. Daddy dearest already thought he was queer (he wasn't but try telling Neil Hargrove that), he didn't need the man finding out he liked a woman punk rock singer.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>-You're beggin' me to go then makin' me stay</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why do you hurt me so bad?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It would help me to know</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Do I stand in your way, or am I the best thing you've had</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Believe me, believe me, I can't tell you why</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But I'm trapped by your love and I'm chained to your side.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Billy leaned against the kitchenette door frame, having followed his nose to where dinner was being prepared. Rebekah either hadn't realized he was watching or simply elected to ignore him for the music. Normally being ignored like this caused a fiery heat to build, a frantic unnameable desire to be acknowledged. But this time, those feelings remained absent, lost in watching the enigma dancing in her kitchen and singing along. Surprisingly well. Her singing at any rate; Billy was finding it difficult not to laugh at the flailing arms and jerky motions she apparently thought was dancing. She had potential though if the occasional smooth hip sway said anything.</p><p> </p><p>-<em>We are young</em></p><p>
  <em>Heartache to heartache we stand</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No promises, no demands</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Love is a battlefield</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>We are strong, no one can tell us we're wrong</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Searchin' our hearts for so long</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Both of us knowing</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Love is a Battlefield</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Foot tapping, head bopping slightly, Billy grinned and for the first time in an incredibly long while let himself simply be in the moment. He didn't know anything about Rebekah just as she knew nothing about him but she brought him in from a cold night in the cold and potentially being chowed on by wild creatures without asking for anything major in return. It's more than anyone has done for him in a years. Then she's turning around, eyes closed and completely taken in by the music, doing a full blown chest shake like in the video and Billy <em>loses it. </em>Because she can sing but can't dance and she doesn't give a damn and its absolutely beautiful.</p><p>Billy roars with gut deep laughter, bent double and crying but he doesn't care either. Rebekah watches him lose his composure and smiles. He's a jerk in school and probably everywhere else in his life, yet seeing him laugh this hard makes her understand what has been whispered in her heart since she dragged him home: no one sees what's behind closed doors; the mask presented isn't always the truth; if she can be loved so can he. Losing a bit of dignity means getting this result, Rebekah can be okay with the outcome.</p><p>“What's so funny?” Rebekah questions, her own laughter bubbling like a forest brook.</p><p>“You.” Billy replies and there is no sting to the word because his cheeks are practically splitting in two from his smile.</p><p>“How am I funny?” She plants her hands on her hips and even goes so far as to tap a foot against the linoleum. They both know its all for show.</p><p>“Sweetheart,” Billy leans into her space, tongue in cheek with the smirk he knows drives ladies crazy firmly in place “I don't know if anyone has told you, but you can't dance.” and just because he can, because she is something new and unique in this backwater town, he reaches up to....</p><p>Bop her on her freckled button nose.</p><p>He's not sure who is more startled: her or him. Rebekah blinks at him completely startled and to Billy's amusement, looks not unlike a kitten. She evens lets out a tiny mewl of surprise. He'd laugh but there is a fire of retaliation sparking trying to catch flame and he's only just met her however Billy thinks that riling Rebekah up might be more fun than picking a fight with King Steve.</p><p>Rebekah steps closer, crowding him now until they're practically pressed chest to chest. This competitive spirit she's kept hidden deep inside is salivating for release, to rise and meet the challenge Billy Hargrove presents. She doesn't join clubs because of the competition, fears what she'll accidentally do if pushed too far, but she's in the safety of her own home. Billy's a jerk (she's seen how he interacts with Steve Harrington and others, has watched him drop off and pick up his step-sister) yet she doesn't sense hostility in him now, not like he normally does as if he bathes in it before starting his day. Which is the only reason she tests the boundaries.</p><p>“You think you can do better, Hargrove?”</p><p>They're breathing the same air when he replies with a cheeky “Oh, I know I can” and Rebekah has never flirted with a guy before but it's kind of nice in a terrifying way. Billy's eyes are a clear, brilliant blue like a summer sky just before the heat of the day. Not many men can pull off a mullet but somehow he does. There are curls hanging down his forehead she wants to brush away (this scares her because she never wants to touch people; to many bad memories involving touch flare in her mind) and he smells faintly of cigarettes which has never been a favored scent. Yet somehow, against all the negatives, Rebekah <em>wants. </em>If this is what animal attraction is like, she can understand why all the airheads at school become worse in Billy's presence. She shouldn't want this, she <em>can't have </em>this whatever it might be if allowed to grow. There is too much at stake if she is ever found which has always been a mantra that has worked in the past when girls from different schools twitter on about the cutest guys. She can't be selfish. Can't risk anyone's life with simply knowing her. Then she smells smoke and burning meat. The connection is broken as she rushes to the pan of searing bacon and all Rebekah can think is to give thanks she's no longer flying in Billy Hargrove's eyes.</p><p>Billy has never been able to help himself when it comes to smart-ass remarks though God knows he's tried. And flirtation is basically a second language to him by this point in his life so he sees Rebekah is responding to his signals, knows she's flirting back in her own way – virginal as it is – which is good, normal. Billy can handle normal; anchors himself to it religiously. But they are chest to chest, as close as two people can be without getting nasty, and he has never felt this connected to someone he's spoken to a handful of times and all within the last few hours. He likes her fire and spunk; how she stands her ground and doesn't let him intimidate her. Her eyes are ocean eyes, a deeper blue while still being light with streaks and flecks of golden honey that will turn her eyes aqua green in certain lighting. He can taste sea salt on his tongue just by looking at those eyes. Brunette is nothing new to him (he's tasted every flavor out there) but Rebekah's hair isn't a true brown either. Much like her eyes, he sees golden strands of honey blonde and raven black; she shifts slightly and fire catches as auburn red peeks out. There is no way she dyes her hair which means it's all natural. Also a combination he would love to see under the California sun, windswept by ocean air. Billy bets she'll look like a fiery goddess descended to Earth. Then there are the freckles scattered like cinnamon sugar kisses across her nose and over her cheek bones. Most girls he knows cover up any kind of blemish with pounds of make-up which makes kissing or licking (what can he say, he's an oral guy) a turn off. Rebekah had some make-up products laid out in the bathroom but going by the dust on top, “putting on her face” was not a priority.</p><p>Why was he even thinking about this girl like she's a potential date?! Sure he's seen her around school but, again, this is the first time they've interacted. So why....? There are too many thoughts bouncing around, too many emotions swirling in his gut. They had been flirting which is normal, but the peace, the warmth, the <em>happiness</em> watching Rebekah rise against him? That was different and it terrified Billy. He didn't get to have happiness. The bacon burning is a God-send and he didn't believe in a higher power.</p><p>If a quiet sigh left them both, neither commented.</p><p>The bacon comes out a little charred but they have too much fun rocking out together to the last verses of the song that the BLT sandwiches still taste good. And Billy doesn't comment when she prays for the meal, thanking God for letting her see Billy in the dark so she can bring him to safety, for keeping him safe until she could find him. He watches and wonders if this warmth blossoming in his chest is what home is supposed to feel like. Before Rebekah had a chance to catch him, Billy wiped away the tears he refused to believe were there because believing made things real and he couldn't deal with real.</p><p>When it's time for Billy to head home, Rebekah offers him a ride.</p><p>“You washed the dishes, Hargrove. The least I can do for you taking care of the second worst chore is drive you in a warm car.”</p><p>“Thought you didn't have a car.” Billy replied. “Never seen you drive to school.”</p><p>“I do but gas is expensive so I don't drive around until the winter months. Heat stroke is easier to recover from than loosing digits to frostbite.” She speaks like its normal to have a car and not drive it, to worry about gas prices and frostbite. “'Sides,” Billy perks up because she's gone from practical and somewhat resigned to practically bouncing in place “I think you are going to get a kick out of my baby.” Her gleeful pride seals his mind. Billy accepts.</p><p>Garage doors open to show her car and yeah, Billy lets her have her pride because what he sees is a beautiful cherry of a 1967 Chevrolet Impala SS. His fingers itch to get into the engine, to wash and wax the sleek black and silver body to a shine. Billy loves his Camaro because its his, bought and paid for (never Neil's) but this beauty almost puts his to shame. Just to get to sit in this for a ride home Billy will take Neil's punishment with a smile.</p><p>Rebekah is grinning at him when he looks at her and its girlish and carefree like in the kitchen. He grins back. What else could he do?</p><p>When she pulls up to his house, Billy's bones have been lovingly liquefied to the rumble of the engine. All he wants to do is stay in the car and ask her to drive, never stop until they reach the ocean horizon. But the curtains pull back from the front window and Max is peeking through even as Neil opens the door, glaring without snarling like Billy knows he will once that door is closed again. Its ice water down his spine and the anger (fear) is bubbling in his gut. Rebekah must sense the change because she shifts to see him but doesn't speak.</p><p>Billy doesn't speak either as he gets out of the car, its safety breaking off him like a sandcastle beneath a wave.</p><p>Neither acknowledges what had transpired in the little house. There are too many monsters around them.</p><p>Rebekah drives away to the sound of a slamming front door. Her heart whispers of broken pieces and snakes in the grass. She prays safety over the young souls in the house. Both will need every guardian angel she can call.</p><p> </p>
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